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"osculate" poems
Face me...fixedly eye to eye, four hands intertwined in infinite reciprocation, articulating... Osculate my mind with your intellectual parlance, ardently and with hedonistic electricity arousing my neurons, titillating my synapses, sending lustful charge down my nerves. I crave to feel your utterances surge through me,  course throughout every bifurcation, and transude from every last pore of my flesh. Grasp my heart with your loquacity, embracing so passionately, that our beats become one resonating cadence whilst exchanging harmonious rhythm. Caress my flesh with cognital poetry woven from emotions existent only to us. Trace my veins with every word born from pain, contentment, angst and tranquility... pressing their vehemence into my bloodstream, surrendering my pulses to ****** I yearn to listen to you make me moan, as I arch my back, tilt my head and release in silent screaming ecstasy... sating you with visual affirmation of our sapiosexual affair.
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Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 6:58 AM UTC
Ten Dollar Fornication
How do lips, closely rhyme with kiss; Yet the tongue; in between makes a hiss, I do wonder; did we both submiss?
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Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 5:36 PM UTC
Osculate
It was a gathering where emotions murmured into an answering call for devotion. Where locked gazes and dilated pupils mirrored the endless churning of the sea. The sensation of their very presence was an euphoric dance that was devised by the most magnificent of choreographers. The purpose of this meeting was simple; It was to be a discussion of plans. It turned into a blueprint for the future. It was your kiss It was my rapture.
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Osculate
*I'm planning to cross the ocean I'm planning a swim under the sun I'm planning to hit and follow the road I'm planning to lift all my load I'm planning to endure the hurt I'm planning to fix my heart I'm planning to tightly embrace Water my faith and bloom in grace I'm planning to give it another try Even if it might as well make me cry I'm planning to osculate again And walk with you in the rain I'm planning to forgive that day Even if it still feels like yesterday I'm planning to get up and get going On a train, yatch or a boeing I'm planning to lift myself from down And instantly leave this town Pulling my socks,tightening my laces 'Cause I'm planning on going places There's a peace I seem not to have I'm planning to find it, and to love I'm planning to write another chapter One that ends with happily ever after*
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 1:59 AM UTC
ANOTHER CHAPTER
A perambulatory excursion presented to me an ocean; aqua satin and a costume: one I recognized. Osculate affection and sodium inhalation; an amorous abyss acting with my undulation. While paternal extensions burst bubbles full of me, a sequence of imbibing spur doleful reverie. A pleasurable immortal, and a marine that is eternal. I asked and he gave so in the ocean-tomb I stayed.
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Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 3:04 PM UTC
A Perambulatory Excursion
i. Buoyant, as bubbly toddler's, giggly as drunkard's on a midnight Swoon. Though sober, ourn limb's limber, high as we osculate; Her countenance is seductive, her saliva reproductive, none to crosseth ourn citadel; a playground carousel, ourn kid's to relate. ii. O' crème de la crème, the kalinaw that thou hast brought The solace that I hath sought, awaiteth in thine intellect of light; Beyond the grave's of death and fright, on a train, or just one Flight, I shalt meeteth thee mine amare, between the bijou veil. iii. In novel's, In tale's, on bookshelves, in robust detail, when the fall Arriveth, and the winter enter's, when Hades breaketh loose; As the universe loses it's center, and the Cosmos goes to blood, as the planetoid's faileth, a letter in the mail, mine heart sail's. ©Brandon nagley ©Earl Jane nagley dedication ©Lonesome poet's poetry founder.
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
currens obviam currenti veniet cor meum ad eam ( Courier mine heart to her) latin tongue
I can't love you the way I did then Can't rewrite my affection when we lost the Pen I can't hug you like it was in those days gone The arms are cold where they were warm I can't cry for you 'cause I'm no longer torn No more signs of a raging melancholy storm I can't kiss you as passionate But it's sad we'll never sincerely osculate I can't re-meet you for the first time To be tortured by my feelings for you Can't revisit the innocence to have a review I can't forget the burn of your goodbye Just like the crazy moments twixt you and I I can't replace you neither can I forget All the same it was worth refusing to regret
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 7:29 AM UTC
REFUSING TO REGRET
Inhale my exhale feed my veins with your blood invade my lungs and evade my pain but osculate it's outlines rub it smudge it to make it, no make me softer. softer like elation smile my smile and I'll get your dimples I'll laugh your laugh and you'll feel my heart beat in time with yours you'll warm my bones and I'll crack your knuckles. let your arms wrap around my body and I'll breathe in your smell let it filter my self-hatred and replace it with love, flowers and the sound of your voice. give me your eyes so I can see in myself the things that you see so I can finally know what pulls you to me and what keeps you there. show me your past with my future and build your future upon my past tell me stories about your family and show me the scars you keep hidden away come to me with secrets bare and I'll share with you mine that have never once seen the sunlight.
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 6:18 AM UTC
confluence
To kiss Definition: Touch with the lips as a sign of love, ****** desire, or reverence. Our kisses are much less: they're the marks of a coward, they're a breadcrumb trail of a fake. Our kisses are nothing more than the simple action of lips on lips. Osculation. A contact without feeling.
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Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
Osculate
I’m not ***** but my name is Diana. I’m not ***** but what you provoke in me, may take my demure like manner..to the wild side. I’m not ***** but my name is Diana! My kiss has the power to plough through your empty life. I can be your morning dew just by embracing you. I can take you to heights not discovered by man. I can do all that, by gazing into your soulless eyes. I’m not ***** but my name is Diana! I am not a harlot; but, when I love… I do it with irreverence! Let’s not play these games, if you want me, just say the word. If you belong to someone, keep walking through. I want to give all this repressed passion to the man who can only love me. I want to be your lady, and your harlot in the shadows of the night. Some call me Lady Diana yet, I’m no Princess in bed. My name is Diana, but ***** I am not. I want to transcend in your arms, to that harmonious line, where the sun and the ocean osculate unbeknownst to the stars. I want ****** combustion, that culminates in exhausting convulsions, creating a series of combustible explosions of surrender and celestial passion. My name is Diana, but, ***** I am not! I want your love. I want that mystical magic, the sun and the moon create, when they eclipse their passion into each other’s hands. My name is Diana, Call me ***** Call me sweetie. Call me whatever you want… As long as I know, That you are entirely mine. LeydisProse 4/28/2017 https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
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Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 9:49 AM UTC
MY NAME IS NOT ***** DIANA
She is there and you are there, The mood and time seem right. Be sure your heart is healthy enough! Know what Science brings to light. Kissing someone like you mean it makes hearts race as passion soars. The work hearts do in minutes can be multiplied by four. They say that life is shortened by each amatory kiss. We work our tickers overtime When we osculate like this. Note I’m not urging abstinence As that would be a crime. Just, when kissing like you mean it, Make sure she’s worth your time.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 7:28 AM UTC
The Dangers of Osculation
Allow me….. No dear, you are no longer allowed!!!! You will not engulf me in your broken lies. You will not confused me, as your lips utter I love you’s until I abide. Allow me…… You will not deluged me in your obscene passion. You will no longer have access to the parts of me, that provoked your lustful desire. You will not touch me, You will not osculate me, You will not speak to me of; love, commitment, or growing old. No dear…Allow me! You will no longer patronize me, You will no longer demean me, You will have to live without me, ……………..the rest of your drama. For you see, as you devoted yourself to breaking the parts of me; that pledged to be forever yours, that vowed to become one with you, that promised a daily kiss with bliss, that zealously built this home, brick by brick, while your termite behavior teared the foundations of this love, your savagery actions left cracks in my soul, thus, breaking my humanity!!!! No dear…. Allow me! Stop moving your bottom lip, let me tell you how this will be; I will tear down the shrine I placed you in. I will build a new home…where I am free. I will restore my broken heart without your lies. I will live. I will love.  I will heal. I will now allow me, without you telling me how!!!! LeydisProse 5/31/2017 https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 2:50 PM UTC
ALLOW ME!!
She is in my breath of words so often That just to speak is to feel kissed by her, To have my discontented voice soften, As the gentle kiss of a whisperer. She so inhabits each letter I write, That I dwell in them as they are spoken, So each poem is her inhaled delight, Said aloud is her kiss for the broken. The poems from her spirit emanate, My pen is the instrument of her heart, Each word is a moment to osculate, Breathing in her kiss as the words depart. I send out poetry with emphasis On the words she breathed deep into my lungs, Planted on my lips with her passion’s kiss, Words she inspires play between our tongues.
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Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 11:45 PM UTC
My Words Are Her Kisses
I'd write a thousand poems, but you'd still be my favorite piece I'd osculate a thousand lips and you'd remain my best kiss I'd run many other races but wish you were the price for you are the face I'd want to see if my life were a dice I'd meet the greatest of angels, flowers of beautiful scent but you'd remain my favorite Heaven sent I'd make billions from discovery along the thread of time yet you'd remain the most cherished even without a dime I'd travel this whole world and you'd still be my dream destination... I'd eat all food there's on earth, none would be as special I'd find pearls and rubies and all treasures of the old yet you would still be a treasure to me greater than gold I'd read all novels there are and it's our story I'd wish may unfold I'd let the glass of my heart fall and shutter just to yours hold and if I had to choose between life and your love I'd comfort you with the very last inhalation I'd have... hoping that soon as my eyes are closed your hurt would heal That's how much you mean to me, and always will...
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 3:58 AM UTC
Glass of My Heart
.                         He had lips of an angel, A kiss that could make a judge forgive ******   A touch that made 2AM thoughts osculate,                         And me, he had me..         Loving him like he was my religion.
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 2:18 AM UTC
2:18
that summer I tasted music for the first time I loved a boy who said my knees knocked together like commuters during rush hour in his eyes were waves against Barceloneta and he slid lyrics in between my ribs at every traffic light when we made love I saw sound and his breath coated me like varnish I dreamt I lost him between books at the Rylands; sliding in and out between hardcovers I found him soaking in a clawfoot masked in steam, coaxing me to slide in there is a bustle of him in the square, gradient beard and all I visit it when we’re apart despite the stone, I feel his warmth
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
osculate
Life’s a hula-hoop, what goes around comes back around… you don’t need to alter to move, you don’t need to walk away to move on. Some go as far as half way across the sphere and remain right where they were shattered to smithereens, some go and leave their hearts behind. Even at constant, things change. You may mean nothing to somebody at the moment but what if I tell you rumour has it that someday you might be everything Even scientists claim Mother Nature was once nothing, and from nonentity ensued the big bang… I used to dispute this theory so much so bad…but now I realize nothing’ll ever be more true… someday a big bang is going to happen in a heart of the very person to whom you are but an oblivious void of transparent obstruction and a consequent profound alteration…You’ll turn out to be their cosmos, the stratum of your mouth will be a vista they wish to osculate, the glow of your lips a dawn they crave in the chilly twilight of their solitude and your eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky of the future they dream about… They’ll stutter in chills for you’ll be so cool, an ice age they’ll wish they’d skied through while they had the chance, yet again a supernatural cause of global warming, so hot that they’ll sweat, by radiation the gamma rays of hot passion will pierce through the weak walls of their hitherto frozen hearts and as a result, the tectonic plates holding their souls will release, and consequently a quake of an unimaginable magnitude will send them head over hills. As if that’s not enough, a labyrinthine volcano will erupt at the peak of their pride, the “Lover” will flow with them back down to earth, residual effects will be felt even when miles away… On the wind ward side of a resultant Everest of regret, up the skies of their eyes will linger copious clouds of grief and everyday it will rain. The crop of their esteem will be washed in the flood of the moment And in hunger they’ll ravenously gobble their words, Get on their knees and ask you to be their rainbow…
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
iT wiLL raIN
Life’s a hula-hoop, what goes around comes back around… you don’t need to alter to move, you don’t need to walk away to move on. Some go as far as half way across the sphere and remain right where they were shattered to smithereens, some go and leave their hearts behind. Even at constant, things change. You may mean nothing to somebody at the moment but what if I tell you rumour has it that someday you might be everything Even scientists claim Mother Nature was once nothing, and from nonentity ensued the big bang… I used to dispute this theory so much so bad…but now I realize nothing’ll ever be more true… someday a big bang is going to happen in a heart of the very person to whom you are but an oblivious void of transparent obstruction and a consequent profound alteration…You’ll turn out to be their cosmos, the stratum of your mouth will be a vista they wish to osculate, the glow of your lips a dawn they crave in the chilly twilight of their solitude and your eyes will sparkle like the stars in the sky of the future they dream about… They’ll stutter in chills for you’ll be so cool, an ice age they’ll wish they’d skied through while they had the chance, yet again a supernatural cause of global warming, so hot that they’ll sweat, by radiation the gamma rays of hot passion will pierce through the weak walls of their hitherto frozen hearts and as a result, the tectonic plates holding their souls will release, and consequently a quake of an unimaginable magnitude will send them head over hills. As if that’s not enough, a labyrinthine volcano will erupt at the peak of their pride, the “Lover” will flow with them back down to earth, residual effects will be felt even when miles away… On the wind ward side of a resultant Everest of regret, up the skies of their eyes will linger copious clouds of grief and everyday it will rain. The crop of their esteem will be washed in the flood of the moment And in hunger they’ll ravenously gobble their words, Get on their knees and ask you to be their rainbow…
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27
I MOVE as prayer warrior traveler from distant lands to make things right inside expansion of life. Light enters cells with breath as I’m readied to stand on platform of love. I STAND as love warrior to be instrumental in bringing the world to higher vibrations of harmony as ment to be. Visions for peace and joy osculate, as dreams integrate into present time. I stand. You stand. We stand committed to get this planet realigned with our space brothers and sisters with our sacred Mother Earth with our birthrights inside freedom. Time to celebrate as we recall we are children of light in this our changing world.
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Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
I Move I Stand
Osculate. To kiss. An innocent brush Of two lovers’ lips A glance into The other’s wide eyes A sharp intake of breath Soft fingers on cheeks The first taste is always The purest of all A gasp against mouth The tugging of hair There will never be enough Not even after you’re out Of precious breaths For the best kinds of love and passion, Steals the air out of your lungs Yet it will be easy, As simple as breathing Just with a new kind of oxygen The best one we know Obliterate. Destroying all That is innocent Two sinful souls Uniting into one Heavy breaths and Pleasured gasps Fingers sliding Against smooth skin And the time comes It’s a giant explosion The strongest of all Known human emotions Osculate. A simple kiss. A promising brush Of two lovers’ lips.
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Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
Osculate
You are the kind of rare..that feels so familiar. You’re waking feels so naturally mine. You're the anomaly of a love that wants to bind itself untethered. You are the verse that has been discontinued, the word suspended...that which could never be replicated. The word stamped in the interrupted lexicon of a poetic kiss. You and the rare touch of your hands which whisper to my ear sounds stolen from Cupid himself. You and your rare lips, full of symphonies that rouse my indelicate skin. Those lips that attach to the need of a kiss to be triumphant, of a kiss propagates wisdom, a kiss that wants to invent another way to osculate without grazing, a kiss without blackmail and indulging in all its variants. You and that rare form to steal my life, making it so yours, a little less mine, teaching me another way of looking at life. You're so peculiar, however, my love understands your authenticity, wonders in your eccentricity, melts in the heat of your simplicity, lives excited in those unusual qualities that astounds the world, but for me... is the most familiar thing I’ve ever known, my kind of magic and reason to my live! You are the kind of rare that feels so familiar to me!! LeydisProse 10/9/2017 ******************************************************************************************************************************************************** Tú eres la rareza que se siente tan familiar. Se siente tan mío tu despertar. Eres la anomalía de un amor que quiere atarse sin ataduras. Tú el verso discontinuado, la palabra suspendida…la que no se repite, la que deja su sello estampado en la interrupción del repertorio de un poético beso. Tú y tus raras manos las que enganchan mis oídos y les susurran sonidos robados al mismo cupido. Tú y tus raros labios, llenos de sinfonías que despiertan mi piel de gallina. Esos labios que le hacen compañía a la necesidad de que un beso triunfe, de que un beso unce en sabiduría, que no desvaríe, que invente otra forma de besar sin labios, sin chantajes y entregándose en todos sus variantes. Tú y esa rara forma de robarme la vida, haciéndola tuya, ensenándome otra forma de ver la vida. Eres tan peculiar, más sin embargo, mi amor te comprende, protege tu autenticidad, se maravilla en tu excentricidad, se desborona en tu fogosidad, vive emocionada en esas cualidades tan raras para el mundo pero para mí… tan familiares para mi y lo que se ha convertido en la magia y razón de mi vida!!!
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Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 4:46 PM UTC
The kind of rare that feels so familiar/La rareza y lo familiar
You are the kind of rare..that feels so familiar. You’re waking feels so naturally mine. You're the anomaly of a love that wants to bind itself untethered. You are the verse that has been discontinued, the word suspended...that which could never be replicated. The word stamped in the interrupted lexicon of a poetic kiss. You and the rare touch of your hands which whisper to my ear sounds stolen from Cupid himself. You and your rare lips, full of symphonies that rouse my indelicate skin. Those lips that attach to the need of a kiss to be triumphant, of a kiss propagates wisdom, a kiss that wants to invent another way to osculate without grazing, a kiss without blackmail and indulging in all its variants. You and that rare form to steal my life, making it so yours, a little less mine, teaching me another way of looking at life. You're so peculiar, however, my love understands your authenticity, wonders in your eccentricity, melts in the heat of your simplicity, lives excited in those unusual qualities that astounds the world, but for me... is the most familiar thing I’ve ever known, my kind of magic and reason to my live! You are the kind of rare that feels so familiar to me!! LeydisProse 10/9/2017 ******************************************************************************************************************************************************** Tú eres la rareza que se siente tan familiar. Se siente tan mío tu despertar. Eres la anomalía de un amor que quiere atarse sin ataduras. Tú el verso discontinuado, la palabra suspendida…la que no se repite, la que deja su sello estampado en la interrupción del repertorio de un poético beso. Tú y tus raras manos las que enganchan mis oídos y les susurran sonidos robados al mismo cupido. Tú y tus raros labios, llenos de sinfonías que despiertan mi piel de gallina. Esos labios que le hacen compañía a la necesidad de que un beso triunfe, de que un beso unce en sabiduría, que no desvaríe, que invente otra forma de besar sin labios, sin chantajes y entregándose en todos sus variantes. Tú y esa rara forma de robarme la vida, haciéndola tuya, ensenándome otra forma de ver la vida. Eres tan peculiar, más sin embargo, mi amor te comprende, protege tu autenticidad, se maravilla en tu excentricidad, se desborona en tu fogosidad, vive emocionada en esas cualidades tan raras para el mundo pero para mí… tan familiares para mi y lo que se ha convertido en la magia y razón de mi vida!!!
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62
What is it you misunderstand? Your beauty, or my softness that seeps through the gratitude we call us And fills the ever leaking stream of consciousness I deem, incorrectly, you. Take my hand Fair Dreamer of warmth and honey, Let me hold your sticky pollinated eyes in the palm of my days And caress the electricty of your thoughts in motion. Sit with me a while in the quiet being of almost sleep, And eat these sweet raspberries I plucked from the tree outside your window, As we osculate into the liminal tenderness of your sheets.
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Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 9:01 AM UTC
Sasho